


Orbit

by twosidedcoin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Assassination Plot(s), BAMF Prompto Argentum, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Poor Prompto Argentum, Protective Gladiolus Amicitia, Protective Ignis Scientia, Protective Noctis Lucis Caelum, Protective Prompto Argentum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosidedcoin/pseuds/twosidedcoin
Summary: At the start of junior year Prompto disappeared. When he returned almost a year later it was half-dead and an age-old conspiracy threatening to come to light.





	1. Hector

**Day 356**

The boy was alone.

Hector knew because Hector’s been watching and, normally, he wouldn’t find any interest in blondes but he knew the boy was toying with him. Every time their eyes met the boy was quick to advert his gaze, pretending like it was just a coincidence Hector was coming up with in his mind.

 _A game_ , Hector thought eagerly as his present company pressed into his chest as they licked at the muscle in his neck.

Hector paid them no mind despite the fact that the warm eager body _was_ his type. Dark skin and even darker hair as they played with the parts they thought was Hector’s most sensitive. And normally, after a long day of work, he’d come to this type of place and let the person please him however they wished.

Then he noticed the boy- small and young underneath his thick woolen cloak- sitting by himself sipping sodas and declining any attempt for company. He had his hood pulled back, revealing a mop of crazy blond hair and- even at a distance- Hector could see eyes so blue they were almost purple.

He wasn’t Hector’s type, though, so he’d quickly discarded any present thoughts of him. Not even thirty minutes later he’d felt the prickling sensation of eyes staring at him and, assuming it would be a bored patron, had sought them out.

He’d found the boy’s blue.

The boy turned away, eyes scanning the room like he was alone and bored and just watching people. An accident Hector was putting too much thought into. Except it kept happening. Every thirty minutes.

So the boy was toying with him- trying to mess with his head and it was working. Hector was interested and Hector wanted. And what Hector wanted he got.

“Hey,” the person he was currently entertaining protested sharply as he shoved them from his lap.

Several heads turned at the exclamation, but the boy paid them no attention. He rose to his feet, paid for his two sodas and moved towards the door. Hector moved to follow.

“Jerk!” the person he abandoned cried at his back and- normally- Hector would at least apologize as he spun some bizarre half-truth.

Hector wasn’t thinking normally. Work had been bad, his informant making him wait an extra three hours in the freezing dump that was Niflheim, and then hadn’t even bothered to show up in person. Just sent some second-rate errand boy with a crumpled envelope and promise of payment after the king was dead.

“You shouldn’t have botched the job to begin with,” the boy told him coldly like he wasn’t Hector’s inferior.

Hector slapped him and came to the bar.

Payday will no doubt be halved, but he refused to be talked down on.

He exited the building- shoving the slow lumbering bodies out of his way and ignoring their complaints- and stumbled out on the road looking around for the boy. He caught sight of the brown tail of his coat down the road and hurried after him.

In his haste he didn’t stop to consider the game the boy was trying to entice him into playing was a lethal one. He never once thought that he knows these tactics- have been taught the same techniques to deal with an especially stubborn mark.

He only saw the boy and those vivid blue eyes and very much wanted him for a night. Wanted to beat the kid’s game and see the look upon his face when the boy realized that as well.

Hector turned a corner, starting into the alleyway between a butcher’s shop and fish parlor, and nearly rammed into the youth.

“Any particular reason you’ve been following me?” the boy demanded hotly, blue eyes still sparkling in youthful mirth.

He didn’t sound irritated or annoyed- barely even curious. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he thought he was clever. Not as clever as Hector and Hector was going to prove that to him.

“I imagine the same reason you’ve been eyeing me,” Hector breathed, leaning forward.

The boy stepped back and proclaimed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh don’t play dumb after the little stunts you’ve pulled all night,” Hector chided, “That’s so very _asinine_.”

The boy looked unimpressed.

Hector squinted. Something about his face seemed familiar.

“So,” the boy said, turning around and starting down the alley, “You going to make me wait all night for an invitation or do you like spending the night in the freezing cold?”

Mouthy, bringing back negative feelings. Hector latched onto his bicep and spun him around, straightening up so he loomed over the smaller figure threateningly.

“I like boys who mind their own business,” Hector growled.

The boy stared up at him. He didn’t seem afraid, didn’t appear threatened. If anything his eyes seemed to be regrouping- processing the mood change and calculating the best way to handle it.

A warning began to scratch at the corners of Hector’s mind.

“I usually get a name before I get this close,” the boy hummed and when the suspicious anger still didn’t drain from Hector he tried, “Mine’s Prompto.”

“You normally take this route?” Hector demanded, pieces of the night starting to click together.

“ _Yup_ ,” Prompto chirped, voice calm and relaxed, “I found the stench wards off anybody looking to do little ole me harm.”

He was trying to defuse the situation.

Hector released him, uncaring that his hold was going to leave bruises.

“You normally follow teenagers down smelly alleys so far from home?” Prompto asked, testing Hector’s temper.

If Hector didn’t get it together then he was going home alone. Some part of him wasn’t sure that wasn’t for the best.

At his questioning look Prompto explained, “When you’ve lived your whole life in a place you can pick out those who don’t belong.”

Hector chuckled at his own foolishness. _Of course_ Prompto was just a kid. Perceptive and smart but still just a child.

“Yeah. I suppose so,” Hector agreed, “You’ll have to forgive my paranoia. You can never tell who you can trust these days.”

Prompto hummed, brushing his wrist against his leg. Must be a nervous habit and Hector felt a bit bad for giving the kid such a scare.

“Sorry. Come back to my place. I’ll make it up to you,” Hector offered.

Prompto smiled and nodded.

* * *

 

The place Hector was currently set up in was filled with papers and notes and pictures- _for work_ he reassured his company- and most of the time they paid it no mind. A hassle more than anything else. Not Prompto, though, the sight of it sparking his interest.

“Are you a reporter or something?” Prompto asked and he didn’t reach through to start rifling through it but his eyes skimmed over the open pages with something a little more than curiosity.

Hector tugged him towards the bedroom- a space so small that only a bed could fit inside. No work there, nothing to distract Prompto for the reason Hector opened his door for him.

“Or something,” Hector huffed impatiently, pulling.

Prompto went willing, and he got him all the way on the bed when he’d made a soft pained sound. Hector undid his cloak, tossing it to the floor.

“What is it?” he asked as he freed Prompto from his shirt as well, trailing kisses up his neck.

“Nothing,” Prompto lied, “I’m fine.”

Hector looked at him. Prompto grinned back, but he looked concerned. Something was still bothering him and Hector- occasionally- liked it rough but he prided himself in pleasing both himself and his other partner.

“I’ll fetch you something to drink,” Hector decided, moving off the bed.

“No. I’m fine. Come back to bed,” Prompto tried, scrambling after him as Hector made it into the hallway.

He glanced down, intended to turn and face the youth, when his eyes got caught. It was a picture of the prince, smiling unaware that he was getting his picture taken, and beside him- blurred because he’d been deemed unimportant- was Prompto.

The prince’s best friend.

Hector turned towards Prompto, glowering. Prompto froze in his hall- rabbit caught in its own trap.

“You lied,” Hector accused.

Prompto’s face darkened as he shot back, “And you’re a traitor.”

“Oh? Tell me, little spy, how is that?” Hector demanded, stepping towards him threateningly.

“You’re part of the Crownsguard and tried to have your king murdered,” Prompto snapped- the last piece clicking into place.

This hadn’t been a coincidence. Prompto knew who he was- had sought him out to _what?_ Try and stop him?

“You’re too late,” Hector said coolly, “By the end of this week the king you love so much will be dead along with his pathetic excuse of a son.”

Prompto gave a sharp intake at the mention of the prince as he demanded, “What’d you do?”

Hector shrugged, tired of talking.

He bolted forward, knife he had set amongst the files of information in his hand and he had it buried in the youth’s shoulder before Prompto got a chance to realize what was happening. Prompto gave a sharp cry as they stumbled back into the bedroom.

Hector yanked the knife out, jabbed it towards the softer flesh of the youth’s stomach. That time Prompto only gave a low unpleasant groan, knee jamming itself into Hector’s hip. Hector flipped off, knees striking the wooden ground.

He leapt back to his feet, bearing down on the youth. His knife was still in Prompto’s side, a blossom of growing. A crimson rose starting to form on his shoulder. Still Prompto’s face was twisted in a mix of anger and determination as he swung his legs towards Hector.

His foot struck Hector’s side, causing him to stumble but he managed to keep on his feet. He grabbed onto the thin ankle, jerking Prompto towards the floor.

Prompto scrambled for a hold onto Hector’s sheet, messing up his bed. Hector growled in anger- had wanted Prompto to mess up his bed in a much different manner. Prompto’s other foot caught him from tumbling completely off the bed.

He reared back, striking Prompto’s face. Prompto grunted so Hector struck him again.

“You reckless little fool,” Hector growled as he slapped him again, “You should have minded yourself, and then I wouldn’t have to kill you.”

Prompto jerked the ankle still trapped in Hector’s hold in an attempt to free himself. Hector squeezed him tighter.

“You betrayed your king- your leader,” Prompto accused hotly, face red.

“That man is _not_ my king,” Hector declined, releasing his ankle to grasp around Prompto’s throat.

Prompto gagged, blue eyes popping at the sudden pressure. Fingers clawed at Hector’s hold.

“You thought yourself clever,” Hector growled, straddling Prompto’s withering form, “and yet you fight for the wrong side. You are unbearably naïve. What’s done is done.”

Something sharp struck his side. Hector blinked, glanced down long enough to see Prompto pull the knife out and jam it into his neck.

“You’re wrong,” Prompto gasped as Hector’s hands fell from his throat, “What’s done is done when I say it’s done.”

Hector blinked again, crumpling forward. Prompto rolled him off as he sat up, blue eyes watching Hector with something akin to pity. Hector squinted at him as he reached out weakly. He was dying, but there was no reason Prompto shouldn’t as well.

Prompto batted his hands away, taking several wheezing gasps. His shirt and top of his pants was caked in blood, fresh blood pooling down the unstained fabric.

Hector chuckled, copper spilling from his mouth. Prompto may have gotten the upper hand, but he was still going to die before he got a chance to warn anybody. Hector still won. The royal family was still going to die.

Prompto must have realized what he was thinking because he met his gaze, reached over and yanked the knife out.

Hector sank into the nothingness.


	2. Gladiolus

**Day 360**

“I really wish you wouldn’t lose your temper with him.”

Gladio glanced up at Ignis’s soft confession, the other male’s eyes downcast in thought. Gladio figured he couldn’t fault him- knew where he was coming from. Almost a year ago Noctis’ school friend disappeared seemingly without a trace. Noctis hadn’t been the same since.

The worst of it was how sudden it had happened. One day everything was fine and Gladio had been poking fun at blondie and the next. Nothing. Gone. Vanished completely, and Ignis had looked into it.

Of course Ignis had searched for Prompto. It’s _Prompto_. Gladio had asked around as well but everybody’s answer was the same.

A simple shrug and ‘ _sorry I couldn’t be of more help_ ’ leaving Gladio’s teeth grinding as he had reassured them it was fine. Prompto will probably show back up in a couple of days with a sheepish smile and laundry list of excuses.

And Noctis will brush them all off, wrap Prompto into a tight hug and make him swear to never disappear like that again. Except Prompto never came back and Noctis’ smiles began to fade each day they were reassured that all available resources were being used to look for him.

Because Prompto was gone- just _gone_ \- and nobody seemed to care. It made Gladiolus’ stomach turn as he was forced to entertain dark thoughts of what could have happened to the prince’s young friend. Prompto with his infinite smiles and sunny disposition. Prompto with his ability to enter a room and make even the prince’s sulkiest moods brighten.

It had been one of the reasons Ignis took to Prompto so quickly. Gladiolus too, though he’d be less inclined to admit it, and they’d both been quick to notice how frequent Noctis’ smiles and laughter had become after befriending Prompto.

And, just like how quick the smiles came after Prompto entered his life, they were just as quick to leave him at Prompto’s disappearance.

And, honestly, Gladio missed the kid. He knew Ignis did as well, his presence having quick to become a constant in their lives and him disappearing stung and have continued to sting every day he remained absent and, maybe, that shortened Gladio’s temper as well.

“Yeah,” Gladio agreed.

“We all miss him,” Ignis reminded him, looking up to meet his eyes.

Gladiolus looked away. Ignis’ expression was too serene- too honest. It reminded Gladio of what they’d lost.

“Tell that to his royal highness,” Gladio snapped back, voice sounding more venomous than necessary.

That was okay, though, because Ignis’ temper wasn’t as fierce or defensive as Noct’s could be. He just looked back at Gladio, infinitely patient, and gave him a thin smile. Smiles were rare these days and none of them ever seemed real.

“Do you need a ride home?” Ignis asked, changing the subject.

He wasn’t going to refute Gladio on his opinion nor was he going to agree with kicking Noct while he was- metaphorically- already down.

“No. I’m good,” Gladio denied, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Iris had called earlier that night, cryptically, and told him that he needed to come home immediately. She didn’t sound scared or hurt, but the suddenness of it sent ice prickling through Gladio’s veins. It also snapped his already fraying fuse even shorter and- _perhaps_ \- he shouldn’t have been so harsh to Noctis because he’d just wanted to know if everything was okay.

Ignis tapped the top of the car, face still thoughtful, as he said, “Drive safe. Give Iris my best.”

“I will,” and then Gladio was gone.

{…}

“Iris!” he called, rushing into his home, “ _Iris!_ ”

She met him in the hallway, dressed in her pajamas. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, sleeves rolled up and she narrowed a glare on him the moment she caught sight of him. None of that mattered, though, because Gladio’s brain stuttered to a stop the moment he saw the blood on her hands.

“Where?” he demanded before he backtracked, “Who?”

She blinked, a little owlishly, and tilted her head in confusion. He closed the distance between them, setting a protective hand on her shoulder as he forced her behind him. She was so taken off-guard by it that she stumbled willingly.

“Where?” Gladio repeated, voice hard and cold and it was like all that pain and anger he’s felt since Prompto’s disappearance was rolling over into the soon-to-be-dead-guy that dared hurt his little sister.

“What? Gladdy?” Iris continued and she must have looked down because she said sharply, “The blood isn’t mine.”

Gladiolus blinked, brain opening to a few more possibilities. Someone broke in, and Iris took them on and they’re injured and she panicked. Or someone tried to take advantage of her while she was home alone and she fought them off and now needed help hiding a body. Or-

She punched him in the shoulder, “Will you stop looking like you’re going to murder someone. Come on. I think I helped stop the bleeding but he’s unconscious and- _I don’t know_ \- he looks dead Gladdy. He needs a hospital.”

Gladiolus grunted- knew he wasn’t taking any bleeding strangers that had been in his house alone with his little sister to the hospital- but knew better than to voice that to her. Besides she was already leading him into their living room where a small form was laid onto their couch, beige throw blanket laid under the apparently bleeding form.

“On our good blanket Iris,” Gladiolus berated.

“What was I supposed to do?” Iris demanded hotly, quick to find her place next to the figure, “He just showed up.”

“Leave him to rot for one,” Gladio said without thinking, following his sister’s path with the intent of jerking her away from the mysterious stranger.

Iris glared, clicking her tongue in her disapproval.

He turned the corner of the couch and froze because it wasn’t some anonymous face. It wasn’t just some poor sap who may or may not have been trying to take advantage of a girl home alone. It wasn’t someone- no matter what- Gladiolus could hate.

It was Prompto.

Iris had removed his shirt- probably with the kitchen scissors if the bundle of bloody torn rags by the couch was anything to go by- and he was impossibly pale. His usually messy hair a lump of tangled knots. He looked dead.

“Where?” Gladio demanded again, though for a different reason.

“He just showed up at the door several hours ago,” Iris explained, “He had been asking for dad. Gladdy you don’t think that he had something to do with Prompto’s disappearance, do you?”

The words stuck in the back of Gladiolus’s brain. Trapped in the awful meaning behind them, his blood burning and he very much wanted to believe that not to be true. But some traitorous voice in the back of his brain was asking why here? Why would Prompto come here and not home or Noct’s place?

Iris petted the back of Prompto’s pale hand, eyes bright and thoughtful. She didn’t seem to want to believe it either- though they both knew it was true.

His stomach and shoulder was wrapped in bandages- probably all of them- and they were stained with the beginnings of red. It was clear that Prompto was in desperate need of medical attention- something a little better than Gladio’s kid sister could offer, which had probably been why she’d called him.

Iris had been right. Prompto needed a hospital.

“Gladiolus? Iris?” Clarus’ harsh voice asked.

He was standing in the door they’d entered, unable to see the body laid on the couch. Gladiolus felt a surge of protectiveness- hot and sticky in his ribs. He didn’t have to glance at his sister to know she was feeling much the same.

Every day- every second- since Prompto’s disappeared the world seemed to lose some of its color. Now he was pale and hurt and his first instinct had to come here- to come to their father.

“What’re you two doing?” Clarus continued as he made his way towards them, “I thought you were planning on staying the night with the prince?”

That had been the plan- Gladio and Ignis distrusting Noctis to stay alone since the start of junior year when Prompto had mysteriously disappeared- and their protectiveness only seemed to heighten at the news. A Crownsguard was found dead in a burning rental home in Niflheim. Gladio barely knew the guy- Harold? Harvey? Hash?- but the report was clear in that the last time he’d been seen alive was with some skinny blonde Niflheim honey trap.

Safe to say, the news had unsettled the both of them.

Gladio glanced down at Prompto, hand limp in Iris’ protective hold, and the beginnings of a dangerous thought occurred to him.

“Father?” he asked slowly, “What haven’t you been telling us?”

Prompto’s head was tilted in his unconsciousness, making him appear young and vulnerable. His cheeks was smudged with dirt and ash and it made him seem impossibly paler. A child. Innocent. The perfect cover giving the right guidance.

And Gladio knew for certain that his father and Cor were looking for the perfect candidate for guiding. Only he’d been under the impression it would come from someone in the Crownsguard.

Not the prince’s best friend.

“What in the Six are you talking about Gladiolus?” Clarus demanded but then he’d rounded the corner and froze.

Gladiolus imagined that had been how he had looked moments before. The realization would have been comical if not for the fact that, before Clarus disappeared, he’d only known of Prompto in passing. Research he’d help conduct after it had become clear he was there to stay and he wouldn’t have had a reason to look like he currently was down at Prompto.

He recovered quickly. Blinking and his face was back to being an emotionless mask. Gladiolus felt his stomach roll, stretching his arm out to lay on the warmth of Prompto’s thigh.

He’d lost weight, probably since he didn’t have Ignis reminding him to eat three meals each day. Or to have Gladiolus warn him between healthy and unhealthy exercise routines. Or to sit comfortably inside Noctis’ warm apartment, falling asleep playing video games.

When he’d disappeared they’d been so focused on how Noctis was suffering- on how they were hurting- that they forgot that Prompto would be the one suffering the most. Funny how even after disappearing for almost a year he was still mentally pushed to the side in favor of everyone else.

 _No more_ , Gladiolus vowed, _I can ensure that much._

He squeezed Prompto’s thigh, trying to convey as much to the youth, before releasing him and rising to his feet. He squared his shoulders and faced Clarus.

“Father,” he said- as much as a question as it was a demand.

“To your rooms,” Clarus demanded, “Now. Both of you.”

Iris rose to stand next to him, stuck out her chin in defiance and replied, “No.”

Clarus narrowed his eyes, seeming unimpressed by his children, before they flickered back towards Prompto. Something inside them changed- fear and concern for the youth- before they were back to being guarded.

“Please Dad,” Iris begged, “He needs a hospital.”

“No. No hospitals,” Clarus told them before going to kneel beside Prompto.

For a moment Gladio wanted nothing more than to inject himself between his father and friend. To refuse him but Prompto was hurt. Prompto could be _dying_.

Clarus didn’t bother reaching out to ensure that Prompto was real and there and alive like either of his children had. Instead he gently tapped at his face in an attempt to rouse him.

“ _Dad_ ,” Iris interjected.

Prompto gave a low grumble, eyelashes fluttering. When they opened blue eyes focused on Clarus, squinting up at him.

“I- mole. Found him,” Prompto rasped.

Clarus shushed him softly, “You shouldn’t speak. You’re hurt.”

“I. Sorry,” Prompto mumbled before fingers going to fumble for something. Whatever he’d been searching for he didn’t seem to find, causing panic to flash across his face as he went to jolt upright with a sharp, “My camera.”

“It’s okay Prompto. It’s here,” Iris reassured.

She bent down amongst the torn bloody rags to pull out a small disposable camera. Nothing like the camera Prompto had bought after saving up from the three jobs he’d been working during the summer of his freshman year.

Noctis had wanted to buy it for him, but Prompto had refused. When he’d gone missing, and they’d searched his house they’d found Prompto’s beloved camera amongst his other things and had been one of the first inclination that something had gone wrong. They’d just thought he’d been forcibly taken.

Now, with Gladio gazing at the scene of his father and Prompto, he thought maybe he’d only been forced to leave.

Prompto squinted at Iris as Clarus took the small device from his daughter. He looked confused, then surprised. Blue eyes going wide and almost scared and it wasn’t the first time Gladiolus’ has wished to wrap Prompto in his arms and protect him from the world. This was the first time that the world included his father.

Iris continued to stare at Prompto like she was thinking much the same.

“Iris?” Prompto tried, voice small as his eyes flickered up towards Gladiolus, “Gladdy?”

“Yeah. It’s us,” Iris reassured, giving him a reassuring smile; Prompto’s face dropped, shoulders hunching, and he looked frightened.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he announced, “I shouldn’t have put you two in danger.”

“Prompto?” Iris asked as he scrambled to sit upright, “You shouldn’t move. You’re injured.”

Clarus looked up from the camera, reaching out to set his hand against Prompto’s chest as he reassured, “You did good Prompto. Go back to sleep. My children were just leaving.”

“But you said-” Prompto protested, interrupted by a wince of pain.

Gladio idly wondered what his father had told his friend. He decided that he probably didn’t want to know.

“Sleep. We can talk more when you’ve awakened,” Clarus reassured, pushing Prompto back down on their couch.

“He _needs_ a hospital,” Iris tried, looking seconds from swooping Prompto in her arms and run off with him herself.

Gladiolus felt much the same.

“I remember telling you both to go to your rooms. We’ll talk more in the morning,” Clarus replied smoothly.

And, normally, Gladiolus would take hold of his sister and tell her to listen to their father. This wasn’t normal though. This was Prompto, who’s been missing for almost a year and as it turned out their father had something to do with it- and whatever he’d got him to do involved him getting hurt.

“Well talk now if you want us to leave,” Gladio snapped, “Prompto’s been missing for almost a year and every time I’ve asked you about it you said you were sure it was fine. That he’d come back soon.”

“And clearly it isn’t soon yet,” Clarus said smoothly in reply, one hand splayed on Prompto’s chest and the other clicking though the cheap disposable camera, “Rooms. Both of you. Now.”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto apologized, small underneath Clarus’ large hand.

“Sleep Prompto. We’ll discuss this later,” Clarus told him, just as harsh as with his children.

Prompto curled in on himself.

“ _Father_ ,” Iris snapped.

Clarus glared up at her. Iris folded her hands on her hips and glared back.

“He. Needs. A hospital,” Iris repeated, “Not soon. Not later. Now. Or he’s going to die.”

“He’s fine Iris,” Clarus declared and, without warning Iris swooped down and snatched the camera from his hand.

“What’s so important you’re risking Prom’s life?” Iris demanded as she started sorting through the pictures.

Photos and photos of a room, cluttered with papers on the Citadel and king. Gladiolus recognized himself and Ignis and Noctis in quite a few of them.

“Iris. Please. Give me the camera back,” Clarus commanded, leaving Prompto to rise to his feet and tower over his daughter.

“ _Go to your room. Give me the camera back_ ,” Iris mocked, “You sure have a lot of demands.”

“Iris, _listen to your father._ ”

“You know what. You want this so bad. Come get it,” and then she was gone, rushing down the hallway.

Clarus grunted, shouted, “You’re too old for these types of games,” and hurried to follow leaving Prompto and Gladiolus alone.

Oh.

_Oh._

Prompto nestled further into the couch as if to get away from Gladio. He looked nervous.

“Your dad seems pretty mad,” Prompto laughed nervously, “You should listen to him before he gets any madder. And you should tell Iris to give him the camera back. I don’t want you guys getting in trouble on my behalf.”

_Iris you little minx._

“You’re babbling Prom,” Gladio told him, earning another nervous bout of laughter from Prompto.

“I’m just not worth the trouble,” Prompto declared, head bowed and expression masked behind the curtain of blonde.

Same ole Prompto.

Gladio knelt down beside him, ignored Prompto’s flinch, and gathered him as gently as he could in his arms. He was light- nothing new there, always been a twig of a person- and he was quiet like he expected Gladio to do something terrible to him.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” Gladio announced.

“No hospitals,” Prompto denied, “Dangerous. Please. I’m fine. I’m not worth the trouble.”

“You’re worth all the trouble,” Gladio told him smoothly, moving towards the door, “And I can take you to the hospital or Iggy, who will say you need a hospital. You decide.”

Prompto just whimpered in his arms. Gladio loosened his hold in a sudden panic, afraid he’d hurt him but Prompto didn’t appear any further injured.

“Hey. Whoa. It’s okay,” Gladio breathed, “You’re fine. Talk to me.”

“Don’t make me choose,” Prompto begged, head burrowed in Gladio’s chest, “Don’t make me choose between my life or you guys’.”

The cold air tickled Gladio’s skin, something he imagined was near painful to Prompto. He hurried to the car, worried about Ignis and his father’s wrath later, and gently set a still moaning Prompto in the passenger’s seat.

“What do you mean?” Gladio asked, tapping Prompto’s face gently, “Hey. Talk to me Prom.”

“They’ll kill me at the hospital. They’ll find me, and they’ll kill me. And I can’t go to Iggy or Noct or you because then you guys will die. I shouldn’t have come here. It was just closest.”

He was babbling, half-conscious. Gladiolus shut the passenger door and hurried to climb into the passenger seat.

“You’ll be fine Prompto. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” but Prompto’s words echoed inside his head.

_They’ll find me, and they’ll kill me._

Gladio decided to go to Ignis.

{…}

The problem with going to Ignis was that he was still at Noctis’ apartment, and Gladio was loathed to place him in any sort danger Prompto could have brought with him.

Prompto had drifted off ( _or passed out but Gladiolus liked to think that he’d just succumbed to some much needed sleep_ ) and was leaning against the window. His breath was creating a white halo around his face, and he had been shivering so bad Gladio had draped his jacket over his small frame.

His pocket vibrated, his dad having discovered them both missing and was calling to warn him against disobeying him any further. Except Prompto was hurt more than he’d like to admit, and Gladiolus wasn’t just going to pretend like he hadn’t seen anything. So Noctis’ place it was.

He didn’t spot anything suspicious on the drive over nor when he was gathering Prompto in his arms and hurried up to Noctis’ place. Ignis was the one who answered the door ( _praise the small miracles_ ).

“Gladiolus? I thought you had something urgent come up at home?” Ignis started, eyes flickering down to the precious bundle buried under the heavy jacket in Gladio’s arms. His lips thinned out, eyes meeting Gladio’s for answers.

Gladio didn’t bother explaining himself as he moved inside. Noctis was sitting on the couch and craned his neck in curiosity, seemingly over the fight they’d had earlier. His eyes widened comically as he nearly choked.

“He needs a bed,” Gladio offered.

Noctis scrambled from the couch, game forgotten, as he hurriedly said, “Use mine.”

Ignis was already moving. Gladiolus ignored him, ignored the prince closing in behind him demanding to know what had happened. Gladiolus ignored them all as he stripped the comforter and sheet from Noct’s bed before lying Prompto still bundled in his jacket on it.

“Where’d you find him? What happened? Why is he bleeding so much? Gladio, you said you had to go home,” Noctis whined, eyes wide in fear as he continued to look down at Prompto’s limp form in worry.

“Has he woken at all?” Ignis asked, entering the room with the emergency kit he kept underneath Noct’s bathroom sink.

“Briefly and he seemed lucid. At least my father knew what he was talking about,” Gladio explained allowing Ignis to take over his spot, “He had a camera too. Filled with pictures of files I’ve never even seen before.”

Ignis hummed, checking Prompto’s pulse and breathing.

“He needs a hospital,” Ignis said, already unpacking the medical kit.

“Prompto said no.”

“And you listened to him?” Noctis demanded.

Ignis just hummed, removing the bandages Iris had wrapped Prompto in and underneath them was so much worst. The shoulder was the worst, evidence of a knife being thrust into the soft of his flesh with more power than probably necessary. The same for the wound in his side, though not as severe.

Ignis took it all in calmly, tipping his chin back in search for any further injuries and- there around his neck- fingerprints.

“Six, did someone try and strangle him?” Noctis demanded hotly.

“He’s going to need a blood transfusion,” Ignis announced, “That’s not something I’m going to be able to do here.”

“Focus. One thing at a time,” Gladiolus replied, phone vibrating once more, “Get him closed up and then we’ll worry about that.”

Noctis squinted suspiciously at him as he pulled out his phone. Three missed calls from his father, two from his sister and a text message.

**Iris**

Dad left. I’m not sure where he’s going though it’ll probably be to his highness’ apartment.

“What are you not telling us?” Ignis asked.

“Prompto showed up at my house looking for my father,” Gladio explained, “The camera was for him though neither had been very forthcoming on the information.”

“Is it safe to assume your father didn’t approve of you bringing him here?” Ignis asked.

“He doesn’t know we’re here,” Gladio agreed, “though I’m sure he’s assumed.”

Ignis started wiping Prompto’s wounds with a piece of gauze he had doused in rubbing alcohol. Prompto’s face flickered in his discomfort, but he didn’t wake. Gladio’s phone buzzed again.

**Iris**

I stalled the best I could. Sorry

**Gladiolus**

You did awesome. Thanks

**Iris**

Just make sure prom is ok

“When my father arrives you’re going to have to take care of him, Noct,” Gladio told him turning towards the prince.

Noctis nodded, eyes stuck on Prompto. Gladio glanced at the blonde and swallowed. The more he looked at him the worst he seemed to get.

Ignis had managed to wipe Prompto’s chest clean and had started in stitching up Prompto’s side wound when someone knocked at the door. Noctis rose, face set in his determination, as he moved to get rid of Clarus.

Or, at least, Gladio hoped it was Clarus.

Gladio followed the prince all the way to his bedroom door before he stopped, hiding behind the wall and listening to make sure it wasn’t the mysterious people Prompto was afraid of. Ignis didn’t even glance up, hands steady and face tense.

If they had time then they could just use potions or maybe an elixir. As it currently was they’d have to settle with whatever medical training Ignis had forced himself into learning.

“Hello?” Noctis asked, opening the door.

“Good evening my prince,” Clarus’ voice intoned politely, “Gladiolus wouldn’t happen to be inside, would he?”

“He left several hours ago,” Noctis explained and he sounded convincing, “He said he had something urgent come up at home. Iris had called. Why? What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Clarus reassured.

“Was Gladio not at home?” Noctis continued sounding suspicious and angry, “Did he lie to me?”

“No. No. Nothing like that,” Clarus promised, “I’m sure he’s around. Call if he pops up.”

“Sure. Whatever,” Noct intoned, back to being bored and annoyed at the interruption.

“Have a pleasant night my prince.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The sound of Noctis slamming the door seemed to echo in the apartment. Neither Ignis nor Gladio bothered to lecture him on manners when he returned.


	3. Ignis

**Day 365**

Prompto woke.

Ignis had been at the apartment, Noctis and Gladiolus gone to the Citadel several days ago. Ignis wasn’t sure why as he hadn’t heard from either of them since they’d been called.

 _Probably something Prompto related_ , Ignis had thought as he stared at the blonde boy on Noct’s bed, _or whatever he’d brought with him._

Of course Ignis knew that Prompto wasn’t to be blamed. That Prompto was hurt and, from what little details Gladiolus offered after Noctis fell asleep next to Prompto, that Clarus hadn’t even seemed to care. It was just annoying because Ignis didn’t have all the details, and Prompto remained stubbornly unconscious.

His pulse remained weak the first three days, breathing almost painful and Ignis had to force water and soup down the boy’s throat in hopes of reviving him. Then, on day five, Prompto gave a low painful moan.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked, settling on the bed beside the youth, “Can you hear me?”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Prompto groaned, blue eyes foggy.

“No,” Ignis agreed, “You need a hospital. You lost quite a bit of blood and are incredibly weak.”

Prompto shook his head, “No hospitals. They’ll kill me.”

Gladio had mentioned that, head bowed in the cup Ignis had offered him several days ago, but he hadn’t been sure whom Prompto had been speaking of. At least no one had suddenly appeared, trying to kill the blonde yet.

And it was a good thing they haven’t. Ignis wasn’t sure he could fight a gang of people off while protecting an unconscious Prompto alone.

“Who?” Ignis asked, petting strands of blonde hair back.

Prompto’s flesh was cold and clammy and it was apparent from the way his head kept lulling that he was still weak. Ignis was going to have to make a judgement call soon. Prompto just made a small noise, eyes fluttering back shut.

“Prompto,” Ignis tried, patting at his face.

Prompto’s eyes fluttered back open. He looked pained, and it wasn’t the first time Ignis wished they had time to have administered a potion. Prompto groaned before blue eyes flickered back open.

“You’re in danger,” Prompto groaned, “You need to go. The king. You have to warn the king. It had been a rehearsal. Real this time.”

His words didn’t make sense, and the fact that he often kept slipping back into unconsciousness made Ignis question if the youth knew what he was talking about. He didn’t get long to ponder it, however, as a loud demanding knock echoed in the small space.

Ignis’ hand froze in Prompto’s hair.

“Stay here,” Ignis commanded, rising to his feet.

“No.”

Ignis didn’t get far- the sound of the front door splintering stopping his progress- a heavy black cylinder rolling in the bedroom.

“Prompto!” Ignis exclaimed, turning to protect the youth.

Prompto was already rolling from the bed even as Ignis moved back towards him. There was a bright flash of light followed by grey smoke that quickly filled the room, causing Ignis to cough but he managed to find Prompto and bent down to protect him.

Prompto was coughing, fumbling towards the nightstand. He must have found something because he grabbed and threw it towards the direction of the door. Glass shattered- must have been Noct’s lamp- followed by a low groan.

Prompto gave a low cough, and Ignis felt the youth curl towards him. Ignis set a hand on the top of his head, wishing to draw him to his chest and keep him from further harm. Prompto just groaned pathetically.

“Guns,” Prompto breathed so soft Ignis almost missed it.

Ignis pushed Prompto towards the bed, hoping that it would be enough to protect him. Prompto went willingly, body almost limp, before Ignis rose in a poor attempt to face the unseen threat. Prompto fumbled in his absence, moving and stumbling.

“The prince isn’t here,” a voice spoke by the door, “Kill the others.”

Ignis met one that lurked towards the bed, burying his elbow in the softness of the stranger’s throat. He gave a low grunt but only stumbled before shoving back. Knee in Ignis’ stomach and hand on the back of his head, pushing him downwards so his face could strike against the knee as well.

Ignis fell to his knees, cold metal pressed against his crown.

There was movement behind him before a burst of red and Ignis’ attacker stumbled to the side and then Prompto was there, broken glass from the lamp in his hand. He bent down to pick up the discarded gun before turning towards Ignis.

“Iggy?” he asked worriedly, blue eyes wide amongst his pale features.

“Prompto?” Ignis said dumbly, blinking as another person dressed in all black emerged from the still lingering smoke.

They grabbed onto the back of Prompto’s head and slung him to the side. Prompto bounced off the wall with a loud _thump_ before he rolled over onto his back. Ignis rose to check on him but had to duck at the knife being swung towards his throat.

Ignis moved backwards as a gun went off, and his attacker stumbled to the side. His leg was bleeding and he collapsed to his knees before turning to where Prompto was on his side, gun raised. He fired again, and the man tipped on his back.

“Hey! They dead yet!” another voice demanded, boots stomping towards them.

Ignis picked up the discarded knife- prepared to fight them off- but Prompto was quicker. The man fell before he was fully in the room. Prompto gave a low groan, gun falling from his hands and Ignis discreetly moved towards him.

“Prompto?” he asked.

Prompto groaned on the floor, “Three. There was three of them,” he swallowed thickly as he climbed to his knees, “We need to go.”

Ignis didn’t bother arguing with him. He drew Prompto up with him, Prompto’s thin form listing dangerously and despite Ignis stitching him up several days ago his bandages were smudged with specks of red. Not to mention his skin was cold to the touch, and he was still dangerously pale.

He needed medical attention from a professional. Ignis glanced down at the bodies lying on Noctis’ floor and felt the beginnings of hopeless dread creep inside his stomach. When his eyes fell on Prompto the boy was back to being unconscious.

“Don’t worry,” Ignis reassured the youth as he moved for the outside, “You’ll be fine.”

{…}

It was a miracle Prompto was alive.

That’s what the doctor told Ignis several hours after the medical staff had taken Prompto from him. Ignis had spent the time on his phone, trying to get in contact with either Gladiolus or Noctis but whatever silence that had befallen on them since they left for the Citadel remained.

Ignis remembered the men in all black, now dead on the floor of Noctis’ apartment, but refused to allow his mind to travel to any dark thoughts those memories brought. He scrolled through the news- briefly- but nothing new appeared there either.

He thought of Prompto, near dead and wrapped in Gladio’s jacket, and how he’d been so worried about coming to the hospital. No one dressed in all black showed up, though, and Ignis couldn’t imagine why they would want Prompto dead. Noctis, of course, and he could even understand himself or Gladiolus.

Prompto, however, with his never-ending smiles and unending optimism. He couldn’t fathom anybody ever wanting to hurt him.

“Sir,” the doctor greeted, approaching on silent feet.

Ignis looked up and soon found himself beside Prompto’s unconscious form- again- as he waited for the youth to return to consciousness. He had needed a blood transfusion and was currently connected to an IV because he’d been dehydrated as well.

The medical staff had found the stab wounds easily- Ignis told them that he’d found Prompto that way after a home invasion, half true- but the strangulation marks on his throat had worried them. It concerned Ignis as well. They must have noticed because they let him see the youth without much questioning, and now Ignis found himself staring at the steady rise and fall of Prompto’s chest.

His phone rang somewhere around hour two.

“Hello?” Ignis greeted politely, rising from the chair and moving out into the hall as to not awaken Prompto.

“Iggy!” Noctis’ loud voice exclaimed, “How’s Prompto?”

Ignis swallowed, “I brought him to the hospital.”

“I thought Prompto said no hospitals,” Noctis reminded, “It’s pretty crazy here. No one seems to know anything, and Dad says I’m not allowed to leave. He won’t tell me why, though, and Gladdy’s father keeps demanding to know where Prompto is.”

Ignis rubbed at the bridge of his nose, “And what have you told him?”

“Nothing. He won’t explain why he wants to see him and when Gladdy asked about the camera he just said that he had no idea what he was talking about. Pretty crazy right.”

“Yeah,” Ignis agreed.

The pieces were there: Prompto’s disappearance, the Crownsguard’s murder, Prompto’s wounds, and now the men in black attacking them. Ignis wasn’t quite sure what they all meant yet but he has a theory, and the sneaking suspicion Gladio’s father wasn’t the only one keeping things from them.

“He didn’t even want us to get in contact with you,” Noctis continued, “Something about endangering my safety. I don’t get it, though. I’ve checked the news but nothing is there.”

“The kid has to be here,” a voice down the hall echoed, “Just check all the rooms. This place won’t miss someone like him.”

Footsteps echoed towards him. Ignis turned under the pretense of being in an intense conversation as two men he didn’t recognize passed by him. They didn’t even give him a second glance, but the sour feeling returned to Ignis’ stomach.

“I have to go,” Ignis told Noctis and didn’t wait to hear the end of Noct’s indigent sputter before he was moving down the hall.

Prompto was where he left him, blissfully unconscious. Ignis crossed to his side in several long easy strides.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Ignis apologized as he started removing the machines connected to Prompto, “but we have to go.”

He moved quickly, careful of Prompto, before he lifted him from the bed moving him to the one in the corner. He threw a blanket over Prompto’s body and rolled him out the room and down the hall.

“Hey man!” a voice exclaimed from behind.

Ignis kept his step even, face calm.

“Wait up!” the voice shouted once more. Ignis didn’t stop.

“Hey dude. Respect the dead,” his friend snapped as Ignis turned the corner, and then they were gone.

{…}

Prompto woke, curled in the back of the car Ignis stole, with a jacket draped over his thin shoulders.

“What happened?” he groaned, sitting upright.

“You should remain lying down,” Ignis informed him, “and stay down. I’ll be right back.”

Prompto puffed out his cheeks, blue eyes clearer than before. Ignis felt a soft release of relief at that and he was loathed to leave the car.

“Where are we?” Prompto asked.

“Lie down,” Ignis commanded again, “I’ll be right back.”

He exited the car, moving inside the market several miles from the hospital Ignis stole Prompto from. The market was small, and the teenager didn’t even glance up at the small chime of the door’s bell. Ignis gathered a few energy drinks Prompto and Noctis loved so much as well as some snacks, an oversized black hoodie and grey sweatpants. He didn’t know Prompto’s size for clothes, but the youth was so small he figured he’d fit into anything Ignis picked out.

“You on a road trip or something?” the store clerk asked when Ignis dumped his supplies on the counter.

“Or something,” Ignis hummed, paying and moving back towards the car.

Prompto was in the passenger seat when Ignis returned. Ignis gave him a look as he dropped the bag in Prompto’s lap.

“New clothes for me?” Prompto asked, voice shining in amazement.

Ignis hummed, starting the car. Prompto set the bag on the floor between his legs but did pull the sweatshirt out.

“If you’re cold you can turn on the heat,” Ignis reminded him.

“You stole a car,” Prompto replied instead, “and took me to the hospital.”

“You were hurt,” Ignis reminded, “and you needed medical attention. I didn’t expect for people to be following you. I’m sure you’d like to explain that one.”

Prompto gave a sly expression before he said, “You’ve figured some of it out already, haven’t you?”

“You attacked the Crownsguard staying in Niflheim and burnt down the house he’d been staying in,” Ignis relayed smoothly, “That was where you received your injuries from.”

Prompto hummed, “You’ve always been smart Iggy. Can’t keep anything from you.”

“I don’t understand where you disappeared to a year ago nor do I know why,” Ignis reminded him, “and I’m not sure what possessed you to attack that Crowsguard.”

Prompto looked out the window, face almost sad. Ignis’ chest tightened.

“He recognized me in a picture he had,” Prompto explained.

“So he attacked you?” Ignis pressed, and he believed Prompto even though what he was saying didn’t quite make sense.

Prompto shrugged, still looking out the window.

Ignis drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He wanted to press but didn’t. Prompto deserved his privacy.

{…}

**Day 366**

“You should call in the attack at Noct’s place,” Prompto told him the next morning, leaning forward from the backseat as Ignis blinked into foggy awareness.

Ignis had commanded Prompto to sleep in the back when it had started to get dark. He couldn’t be sure how much Prompto actually slept, but he was looking much better than before.

“I’m sure one of his neighbors already had,” Ignis reassured as he reached for his phone, scrolling down in search of any further word from Noctis.

He had only one message, Noctis asking about Prompto. Ignis sent him a quick reassurance as Prompto hummed behind him.

“Their guns weren’t silenced,” Prompto told him, “They weren’t anticipating anybody being around. You should call it in.”

Ignis nodded but didn’t move for his phone.

“I also need to borrow your phone,” Prompto continued, “I should call Cor.”

Ignis’ eyebrows rose fractionally. Why would Prompto wish to speak to a man that- as far as Ignis knew- has never spoken to before?

“And food,” Prompto reminded, “I haven’t seen you eat. You should eat.”

Ignis took the package Prompto pressed against his arm mindlessly, setting it in his lap for later. Prompto gave him a side look as he opened his own, devouring it in three bites. Normally it would get Ignis to chide the youth, but he was just grateful to see Prompto’s appetite return.

Prompto’s always been a lively soul, and it had hurt to see him so motionless. He seemed to finally be bouncing back, at least.

“What do you need to discuss with Cor?” Ignis asked, tone casual.

Prompto grew silent, blue eyes suddenly guarded. It took Ignis off-guard and perhaps he was out of touch with dealing with Prompto. Maybe in the year Prompto disappeared he’d forgotten how cryptic the kid could be. He doesn’t think so, even as he thought it.

“I need to tell him I’m alive,” Prompto finally decided, voice soft and uncertain and Ignis did remember all the ways Prompto often grew sullen due to his anxiety.

Ignis hummed, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. He hadn’t yet decided on where they were going, but he was certain they need to get to the Citadel. If nothing else than to reassure himself that Noctis was fine- the several days of silence having unnerved him.

“I’ll call the police too,” Prompto continued, “Please Iggy.”

Ignis handed him his phone, trying to give the kid as much privacy as he could. Even so he could tell that Prompto called the police first, taking on a small scared tone that made Ignis’ heart stutter several beats. He’d never wanted to hear Prompto sound like that- small and defenseless and scared.

Then he clicked the phone shut and was back to being thoughtful.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked gently, missing the youth in the year he’d been gone.

Now the boy was there, sitting in the backseat in clothes several sizes too big peering thoughtfully down at Ignis’ phone. Prompto hummed, glancing upwards.

“Is everything okay?” Ignis pressed.

“No,” Prompto said, “We should go to the Citadel.”

“You’re not going to contact Cor?”

Prompto shook his head, slipped the phone in a cup holder and explained, “Phones are too dangerous. You should drive a little faster.”

Ignis pressed on the gas- slightly. He could never fully deny the youth and his own anxiousness from being away from Noctis so long was starting to bubble upwards. Ignis spied the youth from the rearview camera, black SUV following his turn.

“Prompto?”

“I see them,” Prompto reassured though Ignis couldn’t be sure how because he wasn’t looking behind him, “This is going to sound like an odd request, but do you happen to have access to a gun?”

Ignis turned. The SUV followed. He concentrated, pulling one of the few guns Noctis kept in the armiger and handed it to Prompto, who’d crawled over the seats to sit next to him. He didn’t bother lecturing the youth on the safety of gun control, remembered Prompto’s shooting the day before.

Prompto accepted it with a soft word of thanks, clicking the safety off and unrolling the passenger window.

“ _Prompto_ ,” Ignis warned before Prompto lifted himself to sitting on the edge of the window so the top half of his body was outside.

Ignis reached out on instinct, latched onto Prompto’s ankle. Prompto didn’t shake him off, didn’t move. He just aimed the gun in the direction of the SUV and, with several quick shots, smoke started pouring from its silver hood.

“Turn left up here,” Prompto commanded, nudging at Ignis’ thigh with his free ankle.

Left was a longer path to the Citadel, but Ignis found himself obeying without a word. Two more SUVs pulled in behind them. Ignis squinted at them, pressing down on the pedal with his foot. Prompto ducked back inside just as the back window shattered, several bullets planting themselves in the seating.

Ignis reached out, shoving Prompto down. Prompto didn’t fight him, but the moment Ignis released his hold the boy was springing back up and hanging out the window.

“Prompto!”

Two shots and the SUVs were stalling to their own stops. He fell back into the seat, turning around to dig a bullet from the back of his seat.

“We’re going to need a new car,” Prompto said, flicking the bullet onto the floorboard.

{…}

In the end Ignis parked the car in a mostly abandoned parking garage, grabbing the bag he got from the store and following Prompto towards the street. Some part of him wanted to take hold of the kid and demanded what had happened- where had he gone? What does Cor and Clarus have to do with his disappearance?

Ignis had a few theories, none of them pleasant.

Prompto pulled the hood over his blond locks, tucking the gun in the back of his pants. The hoodie hid any suspicious lumps from the weapon from view. He walked with purpose but whenever Ignis pushed another energy drink towards him he accepted it with a beaming smile.

“Thanks Iggy,” the boy chirped, sunshine in his smile, as he twisted the lid and gulped down half the sugary beverage.

Color had returned to his cheeks and he no longer looked as weak and defenseless as he had back in the hospital. He just looked small and young and Ignis knew he had missed Prompto when he’d disappeared but never realized how much until then.

They walked in relative silence, Prompto glancing around them nervously every once in a while. Ignis would occasionally try to make conservation and Prompto, whom always seemed so eager for conservation, would just hum or shake his head. And the further they walked the more agitated he seemed to get.

Then, about a quarter of the way to the Citadel, Prompto stopped.

“Prompto?”

Prompto turned and grinned but there were was an edge to it. A grim line opposed to his usual constant carefree nature Ignis was accustomed to.

“Come on Iggy,” Prompto chirped, starting towards the café they were standing by.

Ignis followed, eyes scanning their surroundings. He hadn’t found anything amiss, hadn’t noticed anybody following them. Something had set Prompto off, and Ignis was loathed to argue.

Prompto bounced inside, making his way to the far corner booth. Ignis followed quietly.

“We should get breakfast,” Prompto announced, picking up the menu and making a show of browsing through the options.

Ignis reached out to lay the menu on the table, flat between them. Blue eyes looked up to meet his, Prompto’s cheek moving in indication of him chewing on his cheek. He was nervous.

“Prompto?”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto apologized, behind Ignis the bell on the door chimed.

That was the only warning he got before the shooting started. Ignis turned, adrenaline making his body go taut. Prompto ducked under the table. Good boy.

“ _Iggy!_ ” Prompto whined as Ignis remained where he sat.

Three men dressed in all black were shooting at the lights. Around them people screamed, scrambling for cover, but the men’s eyes were on them in the far back booth.

Under the table Prompto had the gun out, folded in an uncomfortable looking position. His face was screwed in concentration, blue eyes bright, as he took aim and fired. One of the men went down with a sharp cry, clutching at his leg.

Prompto crawled out from the table, blowing one of the other men’s kneecaps. Ignis knelt down beside him, knives in his own hand but Prompto seemed to have it under control.

Prompto tugged at his arm, “We’ve got to go man.”

Ignis nodded.

Prompto leapt to his feet, sprinting towards the bathroom door. Ignis followed allowing the door to clatter closed behind him. Prompto moved to the small rectangle window sitting above the single toilet.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked.

“I know Iggy,” Prompto reassured as he flipped the latch to shove the window open, “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drug any of you into this.”

Evidently he didn’t.

Ignis reached out to grab onto his bicep, turning him around and dragging him into a tight hold. Prompto tensed before melting into the embrace. They didn’t get long. Prompto pulling away, turning to wipe at the water in his eyes.

“No one blames you Prompto,” Ignis promised, “Whatever happens.”

“No,” Prompto disagreed as he moved back to the window, “I blame me. You should go first.”

Ignis didn’t bother arguing, could hear the shouting from the other side of the door. The men’s friends must have showed up. They were running out of time.

Using the toilet seat as leverage he maneuvered his body up and out of the window. He reached down to grasp onto Prompto’s thin wrist and hefted him upwards. He was almost embarrassingly light, Prompto slipping through the window just as the bathroom door slammed open.

“Oi! Grab the kid!”

On instinct Ignis tightened his hold. The man lunged across the room, fingers twisting around Prompto’s ankle and gave a hard tug. Prompto tumbled back into the bathroom, kicking off the wall with his free foot nearly taking Ignis with him.

Prompto flipped over the man’s shoulder, leg hooking around his neck. Prompto’s body kept moving as he bent over the man’s back. The man went down with a choking sound as Prompto bounced back to his feet.

Ignis, still balanced precariously on the window, gripped his daggers tightly. The heel of Prompto’s foot struck his temple, the man’s body falling limp in unconsciousness.

“Prompto!” Ignis shouted.

Prompto turned towards his voice, door slamming behind him. A hand grabbed the back of his hood, choking him. The youth gagged, swinging his elbow in a low arc. It burrowed its way into the man’s side, which earned him a low grunt but the hand remained on his hood.

“Little obnoxious brat,” the man growled, giving him a firm shake.

Prompto’s body shook as the youth went limp in apparent pain. At the very least his face twisted up in a tight grimace, but considering he used the momentary opportunity of his deadweight to carry his ankle around the men’s leg. He used his other leg to kick off the floor, and the man tumbled towards the ground as he drug Prompto down with him.

Prompto landed on the man’s stomach, body contorted in an awkward angle. He slipped out of the hoodie, swinging his leg and hips as he did so. His foot connected against the man’s skull, and he jerked the hoodie from his limp grasp.

Two more filled the space that left.

Ignis threw one of his daggers at the one closest to Prompto as the youth flailed backwards in an attempt to get away. The man went down. Prompto wrapped himself around the other one, folding his hoodie over his throat.

Prompto pushed back, causing the man to gag. Ignis took the opportunity to throw another dagger at his chest. His legs gave out, and Prompto let him fall the rest of the way. He leapt over him, pulling the hoodie back over his head.

Ignis reached back down for the youth and- with more grace Ignis has ever seen Prompto possess before- he kicked off the toilet seat, grabbed onto Ignis’ hand and hefted himself up and out the window. They fell the rest of the way.

Ignis immediately took hold of Prompto’s shoulders, checking him for injuries. Prompto didn’t try fighting him off but he did bounce from foot to foot anxiously. Ignis understood the sentiment.

He released Prompto’s shoulders and allowed himself to be drug along by Prompto. They ran several blocks before Prompto slowed to a brisk walk. Ignis knew the boy could run further, but his arms wrapped over his stomach as his skin turned green.

“Prompto?”

Prompto brushed him away, “I’m fine. We need to hurry before they find us again.”

Ignis slowed them down to a regular walk, dragging Prompto towards a parking lot. Prompto fell in step, like it was second nature. Ignis tried not to think about that too much.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Ignis inquired.

Prompto gave a low chuckle at his side. He hid it behind the back of his hand, hoodie sleeve slipping over the pale hand. Blue eyes were soft with thought, the opposite of the fighter Ignis had just witnessed in the bathroom.

And Noctis has been training for most of his life and probably couldn’t have copied the technique Prompto had. Then again Noctis has been adopting Gladiolus’ fighting mannerism more and more each year and Gladio doesn’t fight like that.

Cor on the other hand…

“This one should be fine,” Prompto pointed out, slowing to a stop beside a red truck.

Ignis nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> Expect the next chapter some time next week.
> 
> Meanwhile feel free to shout at me down in the comments. I'm very shout friendly.


End file.
